Let Me Be Your Compass
by AZSkyrider
Summary: Somewhat AU, set far in the future. After rebuilding the kingdom in the Enchanted Forest, Snow decides it's high time for a ball in celebration. Emma is determined to set aside her aversion to the pomp and frills of the occasion to see it through with grace, and Killian plans to make sure she enjoys the evening, rising with her to meet the challenge like they always do. As a team.


"Emma? Come on lass, it's time you came out of there... or at least let me the bloody hell _in,_" Killian groaned, moving restlessly around in the hallway outside their private rooms and waiting for Emma to open the door.

She was inside, and had been for what seemed like an eternity, fussing over whatever there was to be fussed over when a woman armed herself in preparation for her descent into important social events. Hair, jewels, frilly dresses…It all took far too long in Killian's not-so-humble opinion, and his patience was beginning to wane, wearing down to a thin line of tension. He himself had been dressed and prepared for the evening in a matter of half an hour, and now he waited; pacing the hallway and trying to avoid thinking about the accursed festivities just starting up downstairs that they were both about to endure.

They were currently living in her mother and father's castle where it perched on the edge of the sea, magnificent and intimidating in its newly repaired glory. It had been six years since they rescued Henry from Neverland, five years and ten months since Emma had magically returned to Killian the use of his left hand in an act of gratitude mixed with newly-budding love, and five years to the very day since the people of Storybrooke had managed to return home to the Enchanted Forest on a more permanent basis. And then time—which had seemed to drag in the centuries he'd endured before he had met Emma—had suddenly shot forward since then, giving him barely any pause to take it into account. Yet Killian had no reason to complain, especially now that they were a proper family in a world that they could both confidently call home, at long last.

Snow White and her Prince Charming had done a marvelous job setting the kingdom back on its feet in the few years since their return to their beloved Enchanted Forest, and Killian and Emma had spent the first months of their time back in this land helping them rebuild and settle in where they could. But as time wore on and less aid was needed, Killian had found that the call of the sea had become too much. Emma, knowing him better and more acutely than he even knew himself, had sensed his restlessness and readily suggested they reacquaint the Jolly Roger to her native waters. She said it would do them both good, and besides, they could put their time at sea to good use; exploring the kingdom and acting as emissaries for her parents to the far corners of the realm while Charming and Snow could deal with things closer to home. After some discussion (and not a little protest from the Prince), everyone agreed.

They'd been properly married (at the understandable behest of her still somewhat-mistrusting father), and had fled the too-elaborate reception as quickly as possible that evening, spending their wedding night alone in the peaceful arms of the waves aboard ship before Killian could arrange a crew for the longer voyage. Henry had then joined them for most of their travelling, returning to shore only long enough to spend time with the other scattered members of his family and deal with the matter of his education before going abroad with them again in the long spring and summer months. They had managed three glorious, blissful years at sea before Emma had announced to him rather nervously that she was pregnant.

Killian grinned foolishly to himself in the hallway as he recalled that day, remembering how frightened she'd looked before she told him. He had flown into a minor panic at the expression on her face, all the while fearing something was horribly wrong. But as she made her announcement, the worry he had felt in reaction to her fear swiftly fled, giving way to pangs of nervous excitement and limitless joy that coursed through him as he'd rushed to embrace her. It had genuinely been the greatest moment of his life, and also the most terrifying. He was going to be a father, and while the thought of it sent a wave of pride into his swelling heart, he had quailed at the thought that he had no idea how to be one. Yet he had met the challenge with open arms.

After their initial celebration, they'd agreed immediately that giving birth and raising a young child at sea would be disastrous, so they'd made the trip home; intending to remain ashore under Snow White and Charming's roof until their daughter, Evangeline, was old enough to be safe aboard ship for longer voyages.

As it was they left as often as they could, savouring a day on the water when the weather was clear and promising. Killian was thrilled to realize Emma had grown as fond of the freedom of the sea as he was, and they escaped to it together as often as possible. He thanked whatever providence there was watching over him that this castle sat on the edge of the water, within range of the crashing waves and fresh, clear ocean air. He honestly had no idea how he would have managed otherwise at this point in his sea-faring life.

And their life here was pleasant enough, Killian had to admit. The palace was large enough to allow himself and Emma enough space to be together without feeling cramped and surrounded, and Emma did seem relieved to be nearer to her parents as she began her life as a whole new kind of mother to the tiny young lass she had brought into the world. He and the Prince had even formed a new sort of bond once Evie had been born, and David finally admitted Killian's presence within the bonds of his family with a bit more grace. They had spent occasional afternoons in surprisingly good spirits, spending the time hunting or at sword practice…though the latter was still somewhat rough, and Killian suspected the Prince enjoyed getting to swing a blade at him entirely too much.

It was a challenging change, to be sure, but one that he welcomed, especially if the prize was the tiny perfect babe he had held a moment ago, and a life of love with Emma, the beautiful woman who completed his soul. The sea would wait for them, and someday he would find just as much joy in showing the wonders of it to their daughter as he had in showing it to Emma.

Tonight however, was going to be an altogether different challenge. Mainly because he knew exactly what Emma's thoughts were about the whole affair, and how anxious she was to not only get it over with, but also to get it done _right_.

Tonight's festivities were to be a celebration of reawakening for the kingdom, as David had put it to him earlier that week. It was the anniversary of his and Snow's formal wedding as well, and they'd thought it appropriate to use the date to give back some joy and frivolity to the people who had stuck with them through the breaking of the curse and the mending process on their return home.

Technically speaking it was a ball, but a simpler one than they'd apparently held in the past. Killian couldn't help but think perhaps that was partly because of Emma's discomfort with the whole idea. But it also served to allow anyone who wished to attend the ability to do so without feeling inadequate, something which Snow highly approved of. In her words, it hadn't been other royals that had gotten them through the worst of times during the curse; it had been their friends. And the fair Queen was doing her best to make sure everyone was comfortable and would enjoy the evening.

For Emma, tonight was important on another level. She had spent a lot of time discussing her feelings and dread about this event with Killian, admitting that while the idea of fluff and frills didn't entirely appeal to her on one level, the thought of doing one of the things her mother had missed out on sharing with her was appealing, if only for a night. Emma was never going to be the kind of Princess who looked forward to the next ball with anything more than a little bit of trepidation, but she had admitted that this particular challenge was one she was determined to make good on.

She hadn't said it in so many words, but she was his open book, and he knew what that flash of determination in her eyes meant. He could tell she not only wanted to attend for her mother's sake, but that deep down, she wanted to do it with beauty and grace. It was certainly a fact she wasn't quite willing to admit, considering her normal aversion to the pomp and fluff that went along with her world's basic idea of being a princess. Killian smiled to himself as he pictured her where she had often stood near the prow of the Jolly Roger, the wind and sun making her golden hair dance, the light of adventure shining in her green eyes, and the dazzling smile it brought to her lips. She wasn't your basic princess, this was true. But she was so much more, and he was proud—and slightly still a bit surprised—to call her his own and the mother of their beautiful daughter.

So it was his self-appointed job to make sure she enjoyed this evening to the fullest, feeling as little intimidation in the face of all the finery as he could possibly manage. Maybe not an easy task, but Killian Jones met most challenges with a grin and a ready sword. This was not much different. And for her, he would meet it with more intensity than he had any other in his life. That is… if they ever managed to make it downstairs to make an appearance.

Killian paused in his pacing and leaned close to the tightly shut door to their chambers, raising his hand to knock softly.

"Emma? Sweetheart? Please let me in. I'm dying of impatience and you're the last sight I wish to see before I draw my last breath."

"Oh _please_. Save your dramatics, pirate," her voice came muffled through the door. "I can tell you're lying anyway. All you want to do is get in here so you can rob me blind. I know how this works. I've read the books."

Killian chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Really, darling, if I wanted to rob you I'd come in through the window. Not the front door. In fact, I'm quite sure you'd never even know I was there until I'd gone."

He heard a string of cursing from beyond the door and grinned.

"So pick the damned lock if you want in so badly."

"Don't tempt me, princess. If I have to resort to piracy to get in, I won't hesitate to take _exactly _what I want from you once I'm inside."

He growled the last innuendo-laden threat just as a maid was passing from a room beyond theirs on her way downstairs. He winked at her as she paused in mid stride to glance at him nervously before she went hurrying on her way. Killian turned back to the door.

"We're shocking the household help, Emma. You should really let me in."

He could hear her muttering and cursing as she made her way to the door. If he'd ever had any worries that she was a 'normal princess' her fiery tongue alone would have dissuaded him. The moment he heard the slide of the lock he slipped inside, shutting the door firmly behind him before turning around to seek out his wife in the dim light of the room. She stood a few paces back, her posture somewhat rigid as she waited nervously for his reaction. What he found took his breath away.

Her shining golden hair was curled softly, a portion of it intricately braided and pinned into a natural crown around her head. The rest fell in soft ringlets that hung down to frame her face. She had laid aside the circular necklace she had worn since he met her so many years ago, but had refused to wear the heavily jeweled cameo that had been offered to her earlier. Instead, she still wore the compass rose pendant that he himself had given her as a wedding gift, taking it off the black cord he had strung it on for her and carefully attaching it to a double chain of tiny diamonds that better matched the rest of her finery. The light caught in them and in the single blue jewel inlaid in the compass's heart, sparkling back at him from them and her eyes like so many earth-bound stars.

She was wearing a lavender dress he vaguely recognized as one that he had glimpsed her trying on some weeks ago. It had once belonged to Snow White, and had in fact been her favourite ball gown before the curse struck them. But for all its carefully preserved beauty and stunning memories of days gone by, it hadn't looked right on Emma at all when he'd seen her wear it before. Now, however, unless he was badly mistaken, it had been altered drastically to suit Emma's figure and style. And suit her it did.

The skirt was much thinner than before, less full than most gowns of this current age; the material had been gathered and sewn into more soft, subtle tiers of puckered cloth than in full drape as he'd seen it before. The bodice was slightly different too. While before, it had been so straight and snug around Emma's torso that it was more constraining than attractive on her, it now had been reshaped in the waist and bust, fitting better to her own soft figure. The gems and embroidery that had adorned it had been thinned out and rearranged into a more delicate pattern, and they no longer lay as thick and cumbersome as they'd seemed to be before. The extra cloth from the skirt had been used to create short sleeves that set just off her shoulders, accentuating the graceful lines of her neck and arms. The cloth whispered softly around her when she moved, and with the natural gleam of her hair and eyes—plus the shimmer of satin and jewels—Emma wasn't just beautiful… she _shined._

"Killian?" She pleaded finally, growing uncomfortable with his open-mouthed silence, a blush rising to her cheeks as he stared at her. "Now would be the time to say something… anything, please. What do you think?"

"Emma… you…"

Killian trailed off and stood again in stunned silence, unable to grasp words enough to convey just how absolutely beautifulshe was. No, beautiful was too weak a word. Magnificent was too all-encompassing a term to describe the intricate subtleties of her beauty. Stunning was the closest he could come, but it still wasn't enough. She was…she was perfection.

"You, Emma Ruth Jones, are the most stunning and perfect creature I have ever set eyes on. You're beyond what even I could imagine. You're a dream, Emma. A living, breathing, beautiful vision, and I feel as if I must have slipped into a dream of you just now."

Emma's face lit up in an even more dazzling smile at his words and she giggled. Yes… giggled.

"Really, now? So tell me, Captain, do you dream of me often?"

Killian grinned widely at her, finally managing to compose himself enough to step forward and catch her in his arms, unconsciously mindful of the delicate gems of her gown.

"Oh yes, Princess," he drawled, voice low and rough. "I dream no other dream but you. You _are _my dream."

"You're being dramatic again," She laughed as his lips descended to claim hers.

They were lost in each other for a moment, content to merely share space and a brief instant in time. He cradled her lovingly in his arms as they deepened the kiss, her hands clasping around his neck and a contented sigh escaping her as she relaxed against him. When they came up for air, Emma gave him a deliberate once over and hummed in approval.

"Well, Captain. You're looking quite stunning yourself there."

He raised an eyebrow and looked down, inspecting his own attire with smug satisfaction.

Snow had tried valiantly to get him into one of the tight, stuffy dress ensembles that David seemed to be so fond of, leaving the abominable thing out where he could find it and carefully making sure he couldn't return to the room that housed the rest of his clothing by designating it Emma's private dressing room for the night. The moment Killian had laid eyes on the lace cravat intended to be wrapped around his neck for embellishment, he'd felt the ruthless pirate return to his soul and he rebelled completely, tossing the offending garment away and making different plans. He had suffered through enough formal events trapped in a Lieutenant's uncomfortable dress uniform to satisfy him for the rest of his life, and he never planned to endure that particular kind of torture again if he could help it. He had deposited the ridiculous outfit somewhere out of the way and slipped down to the Jolly while everyone else was too busy preparing the main rooms of the castle for the festivities to notice his absence. The Queen was no fool, but she was mad if she thought he hadn't at least foreseen the possibility of this moment being ahead of him and had created a backup plan long in advance.

Once aboard ship and in his quarters, he had shed his heavy coat and entirely leather ensemble for the evening, trading it in on a black-and-silver brocaded high-collared vest he had obtained months ago in preparation for just this kind of event. He was wearing his usual full-sleeved shirt, but this one was made of a fine, silky, midnight-blue cloth that shimmered like Emma's dress had in the lights. He had made up for the lack of lace with a bunch of matching cloth he tied loosely around his neck, still gleefully leaving much of his chest exposed on purpose. He had even polished the leather on his pants and boots for the occasion, and while he may not have met the usual standards for an event of this importance, he knew the Queen would have very little to complain about. And to Emma's scrutiny now, he still appeared his handsome and roguish self without looking too far out of place to belong amongst the glamour downstairs. Trust her former-pirate husband to find a loophole in her mother's tightly woven plans…

Emma's eyes dropped to the cutlass that hung at his belt and her brows rose. She reached down and carefully pulled it out, holding it up to inspect it closer.

"Is this Dad's? I think I've seen it in the armoury."

Killian grinned wickedly and fingered the gilded hilt of the dress sword he had indeed found in Charming's private armoury. It had caught his eye as he had left the castle, still working under the heat of his pre-planned rebellion, and he couldn't resist the urge to filch it from the wall and take it with him.

"Like it? Your mother insisted I leave my own behind, so I helped myself. I'm sure your father won't mind if I borrow this one, since I'm not allowed to wear my own."

His smile fell a notch. "At least I hope he won't, or the evening's entertainment just got a bit more exciting."

Emma laughed and rolled her eyes, letting him take the sword from her and place it back in the sheath on his hip.

"You sneaky bastard… Actually I wish I had thought of that. Mom couldn't possibly object if I wore a blade that was… well, _pretty. _Right?"

Killian gave her a knowing look. "She could, and most likely would unless you could manage to conceal it beneath your skirt."

Emma made a face. "Tried that, actually. A sword's too long and bulky to manage. I had to strap a dagger to my leg instead."

Killian arched his brow, impressed. "You mean to tell me the Princess of the Enchanted Forest is attending this ball…armed?"

"Did you really expect anything else?" Emma smirked, lifting her skirt high enough that he could see the blade where it was securely buckled below her knee.

He shook his head and laughed, pulling her close again to place a kiss on her cheek. "That's my girl."

Emma laughed with him, dropping the edge of her skirt and reveling in the feel of his touch. It had been a long afternoon, and she was relieved to finally have him here with her after all the endless fuss and bustle of the ladies who had helped her dress. It hadn't been entirely unpleasant, letting Ashley and Ruby help her slip into the shimmering dress and jewels, watching in the mirror while they had braided and pinned her hair. But there had been a lot of stress, and she was glad it was over now so she could take comfort in the arms of her husband. The only thing that could make her happier right now would be holding their baby daughter close and seeing her bright little green eyes winking up at her and her father.

She tilted her head and frowned, her mothering instinct immediately kicking in.

"Where's Evie? Does she need me before we go down?"

Killian shook his head, a warm, contented look crossing his features as he thought of their small beautiful baby, sleeping peacefully like an angel in the nursery one room away. "She's perfectly fine. I was just there. She's asleep now and Henry's with her for the evening."

Emma's eyebrows shot up. "_Henry?"_

Killian chuckled, rocking her slightly in his arms.

"Aye. The clever lad has volunteered himself to watch her for a while until our dear Madam Lucas goes up to relieve him. I gathered while I was with him that he suspects by then his way will be clear of impressionable young ladies, and he shall be free to make his way safely to the refreshments, where his heart truly lies."

Emma let out a decidedly unladylike snort, shaking her head. "Wow. Lucky Henry."

"Aye, and lucky you," Killian laughed, letting sarcasm taint his words.

"How… do you mean?"

"Oh, well… just that this ball has been made with perfect timing. Our Evie is young enough to not need constant looking after to keep her out of mischief, and just old enough she shouldn't need you for the hours in which the festivities should take place. You're a free woman for the evening, my love."

"Oh, _glorious_," Emma growled, rolling her eyes. "Thanks for destroying the only hope I had for possible early escape."

Killian smiled happily down at her, ignoring her ire.

"You're quite welcome. Your mother would be heartbroken if you were to miss any of the fun."

"Yeah, right," Emma grumbled, frowning in a way Killian could only describe as adorable, though he didn't dare say it aloud. "You know, she _so_ did this on purpose."

He chuckled, pulling her closer and placing his palms gently on the delicate satin at her waist. "Of course she did. You knew this would happen when we decided to come back here for a while. Your mother has probably been planning this evening since the moment the Jolly appeared on the horizon."

Emma sighed, resting her forehead on his. "Probably for longer than that. Doesn't mean I have to like it. Or even _go_ for that matter."

Killian raised a hand to caress her face, letting his thumb trace over the smooth skin of her cheekbone and down toward her lips. "Yes you do."

"Do I? Really?"

"Aye."

Emma was distinctly aware of how close his lips were to hers and was finding them to be very distracting. But she defiantly forced herself to ignore them, raising an eyebrow.

"And why is that?"

"Because," Killian murmured, smiling as a shiver she couldn't suppress ran through her when his fingers ghosted along her neck. "I know you. You would never forgive yourself for backing down from a challenge like this one."

Emma rolled her eyes and started to speak, but the feel of Killian's callused fingers brushing softly along her spine caused her to lose her voice. She let her eyes flutter shut and she drew shallow breaths through her parted lips, alluring him even more than she had when he'd first laid eyes on her in the dress. He leaned in closer to her, his lips less than an inch from hers

"Besides, darling. You look absolutely ravishing. It would be a shame to waste such beauty in an empty room like this one while a ball is being held downstairs."

Emma was having a hard time remembering to breathe as his fingers continued to move lightly against her exposed skin and his low voice sent chills of excitement down her spine. She shook her head to clear it a little.

"The room doesn't have to be empty. You could be in it. And then we wouldn't be wasting anything."

"Is that so?" He let his lips graze over her cheek as he spoke, and he felt her practically wilt in his arms.

"Mmhmm. I can think of quite a few activities that would be more enjoyable than dancing… can't you, _Captain?_"Emma gazed up at him from under her eyelashes, fairly purring the last word as she leaned in closer.

"You wickedly distracting minx," Killian growled, using his left arm to pull her firmly against him and pressing his lips to hers.

He kissed her long and deep, feeling her sigh with contentment and sink deeper into his embrace. Killian held her close, still mindful of the delicate gown she wore and absently fearing he'd damage it in his eagerness. He wanted to sink his hand into her hair but the intricate braids prevented him from it so he wound one of the loose curls around his fingers instead, determined to hold some of its softness.

When they finally broke the kiss they were both breathless, leaning their foreheads together and each trying to slow their heartbeats. Killian felt her fingers drift down his chest and had to catch them in his hand before they went too far and he decided to say 'toss the bloody ball' and spend the evening up here with his wife, participating in a few of those enjoyable activities she mentioned. True God, how he wished they were back at sea without a care…or a bloody ridiculous dance to attend.

Emma sighed unhappily as he grasped her hands and she rested her head on his shoulder in defeat.

"I just want to be out on the Jolly in the middle of the ocean somewhere right now," She grumbled into his collar, surprising him by mirroring his own thoughts.

Killian chuckled. "As do I, darling. But the sea is no place to raise a daughter. You know that."

"We could have found an island," Emma raised her head, a look of mock horror on her face as she tugged frantically at his vest for dramatic emphasis. "An empty tropical island far, far away from all this disgusting princess crap and raised her there where we would be _sane_! Why didn't we do that? _We should have done that!_"

Killian pulled her close again, laughing freely against her hair. He felt the same thrill he always did when she spoke about the Jolly Roger and their time at sea like they were the best days of their lives. He of course thought they had been, but hearing it from Emma, his most priceless treasure, his wife, his very heart made flesh and bone…it made him happier than any other being in creation to know she had come to love the sea as much as he did.

"I'm a lucky man to have found a lass such as you to love. And next time," he promised, murmuring into the shell of her ear. "Next time we'll find an island. I give you my solemn oath."

"Next time?" Emma snorted, pushing him playfully away and giving him a teasing glare. "Who says I'm bearing you any more daughters, pirate?"

Killian crossed his arms and smirked back, a trace of his old cocky attitude still present in his eyes. "Who said anything about _daughters_?"

Emma rolled her eyes and shoved at him, pushing him toward the door. "If you want any more children, buddy, you're going to have to make sure I survive tonight _without_ killing anyone. My own mother, for example."

"You won't kill your mother, darling. I know you better than that. You're far more likely to kill anyone _else _who should be so bold as to ask you for a dance."

His words sank in, sifting through the momentary distraction the comfort of his arms had allowed her and reminding her once again what waited for them at the bottom of the stairs in the great hall. Emma's steps faltered as they neared the door and then she halted entirely, clinging desperately to his arm to stop him from leading her through it.

"Wait, I…I'm not ready for this," Emma pleaded, meeting his eyes with an expression of insecurity and borderline panic.

Killian paused with his hand on the door, ready to swing the carved wood open. He watched as she slipped her arm out of his and took a couple of timid steps backward, shaking her head and letting the next words tumble from her lips in a breathless rush.

"I mean, part of me _wants _to do this, but there's a huge part of me that's afraid of going down there and getting surrounded by all of those other women that already know how to do this. They already know how to be royal and beautiful and serene."

She lifted her eyes, and he saw an old feeling of inadequacy he had thought to be long buried and gone creeping back into their depths as she continued, her voice wavering slightly.

"But then there's me, and I am none of those things, Killian. I'm just _me_, just Emma Swan. I'm just the plain-old-average runaway girl that grew up all alone in a world where this is all just a big fantasy. I can't do this…I can't just go down there like this and pretend to fit in like I've always been some kind of real-life fairytale princess. I've never been that! This stuff _still_ doesn't seem real to me, so how am I supposed to just…become part of it?"

Her voice trembled on the last question and Killian felt his heart clench in his chest as he watched the strongest woman he knew admit her fear of the unknown that waited below. He stepped forward and stood facing her, meeting her eyes and letting all the warmth and love he felt radiate to her through his gaze. He didn't reach to touch her, knowing that right now she needed space, room to breathe, time to think through her fear. She was his open book, and right now he knew what she needed more than anything was time. He dropped his head slightly so he could look up into her eyes through his lashes, giving her a soft flirtatious smirk.

"Emma, sweetheart…I don't mean to upset you, but might I serve as a reminder that you've been married to an infamous pirate captain for the last five years, sailing on an enchanted ship, and seeking magical treasures in far off lands with him? You took to life aboard our ship so quickly it was as if you were born for it. I'd say you've been a flawless part of this world for a long time now."

Emma felt a warm thrill at his words, her heart beating rapidly at his use of the term _'our ship' _and she marveled at the reminder of how far they had come since they'd first met.

"But it's so much easier on the Jolly Roger. I've got you, for one thing," She smiled faintly and placed a palm on his cheek as if she was in awe that the statement was true.

"That life is a lot more like what I'm used to, in a way. Always moving, never staying still, taking every part of who I am with me and existing separate from everything and everyone else. This is bigger, and important, and so…" She wrinkled her nose. "So _different."_

Killian smiled under her touch and turned his head to lay a kiss in her palm. "You still _have_ me, darling. It's not so very different in that way is it?"

Emma shook her head. "No, not in that way I guess. I'm just afraid…afraid I'm going to go down there and lose who I am underneath all of that glamour."

She blinked up at him, desperation creeping into her voice as she opened up her soul to the one person she trusted to see her for who she was. "I don't want to be lost, Killian. I don't."

Killian gazed down into her worried eyes, seeing for the first time since the journey to Neverland a lonely, frightened, lost little girl that still existed sometimes in her soul. He shook his head and leaned down, grasping her hands in both of his and squeezing them, his thumbs tracing soft patterns on her skin.

"You're wrong, Emma. So, _so _wrong. Because as long as I'm here to guide you, you'll not be lost, no matter what stands before us. Demons, armies, stormy seas…not even a terrifying over abundance of lace and frills."

Emma stared at him for a long moment before she gave in and let herself laugh a little, feeling the last traces of her fear slip away. Killian smiled as he reached back and opened the door, bringing his hand back to grasp hers again before she could miss its warmth.

He cocked his head playfully and pulled her forward, bringing her slowly out the door with him until she stood trembling in the hallway outside of their rooms. He let her hands go and then made a show of bowing low in front of her, every inch the gentleman he had always claimed to be. She glared at him as colour rose in her cheeks, and he grinned up at her, holding his right hand out for her to take.

"If you'll allow me, Milady?"

Emma sighed and placed her hand reluctantly in his, quietly murmuring, "Dramatic…"

Killian grinned wider and stood straight, pulling her to his side and leaning in to whisper quietly in her ear, his fingertips brushing the pendant at her throat for emphasis.

"_Let me be your compass, Emma my love. And I promise you won't _ever_ be lost."_

She turned her head, looking deep into his eyes, her own expression softening to match his own until she smiled confidently at him and nodded.

As he led her closer to the noise of people and music that drifted up from below, she tensed a little by his side, drawing him to a stop at the top of the stair and gazing down on the beautiful glittering chaos below, allowing the last shred of her fear of the unknown escape in a breath.

"_Don't let me go?" _She whispered, clinging to him like a lifeline.

"_Never in a hundred years."_

She squeezed his hand tight and felt him squeeze back, letting her know he was there, and that he wasn't ever going back on his promise.

Then without further hesitation, they both took a breath and stepped as one down the stairs, meeting the flurry of dancers and shimmering colours the same way they met every dangerous challenge; together, each trusting the other's strength to guide them through, and looking forward to the calmer seas on the other side.

_~To be continued?_

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I'm pretty sure this is to be continued. This was seriously just so much fun to write, and while it started out as just a sweet little one-shot for fluff month, I've already got ideas bubbling for another chapter. I don't know when this will be updated, but you can be sure it's high on my mind. Writing Emma and Killian as a married couple in this future is the most fun thing I've ever done with them, and even if it seems slightly OOC, I think I'm going to continue doing it. **

**The name Evangeline is a nod to a friend of mine whose story by the same title got me interested in writing on my own.**


End file.
